


Ignorance vs. Necessity

by Gemmi999



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemmi999/pseuds/Gemmi999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John gets court-marshaled for Human Rights violations because of what they did to the Wraith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignorance vs. Necessity

There were times when John wondered if humanity was overrated; if perhaps people really were dumber in large groups, and if the best way to keep something a secret was to tell one person and then kill them. Granted, Atlantis hadn’t been much of a secret by the end; Earth’s technology had improved at such a rate that there were conspiracy theories regarding Aliens, and there really were only so many times a near-Earth impact could be explained away as pieces of Soviet spy satellites launched decades earlier, in the beginnings of the space race, coming loose and being blown up by various missiles of somewhat fictional origins.

But this—he glanced down at the crumpled piece of paper in his hand; a summons to appear in court on charges of human rights violations—was absolutely the most absurd thing he had ever faced in the entirety of his military career (even counting glowy-sex with an ancient, and McKay’s near ascension). He was being charged with human rights violations, specifically against the Wraith, because of “drug testing” on “sentient life-forms”. The wraith weren’t even human, for fuck’s sake. And he was being charged with torturing them?

Beckett was dead, McKay was off doing fuck-knows-what with various bits of technology he smuggled in from Atlantis after it had been declassified, Weir was…it didn’t matter where Weir was. He was the one being brought up on charges, not the rest of his team, so in the end he would have to stand alone.

He’d gotten used to that as well, standing alone. After McKay nearly ascended and realized his own self-worth; after Ronon had decided that perhaps the Genii really did have the right idea regarding fighting the Wraith; after Teyla had gotten herself pregnant and withdrawn from active military duty in order to best protect her spawn; it was safe to say John was more then capable of standing alone. Of being alone.

But now alone meant lawyers and court rooms and possibly seeing the people he’d left behind; the people who let themselves fade away into oblivion. John stumbled into his living room and glanced around listlessly for a tumbler that ws clean enough for at least a finger or two of whiskey. Not that he liked whiskey, but he couldn’t drink Vodka anymore without thinking of Zelenka’s distillery, and beer would forever be associated with Ronon and watching the (taped) live games shipped out once-a-month.

As he settled back against a worn but comfortable chair, glass in his hand, John closed his eyes and let himself think about what Human rights Violations really meant. He thought about Michael, and the other Wraith who he’d allowed to be turned into humans, only to have that gift taken away. He thought about Doranda, and the solar system he’d allowed to be destroyed, along with countless lives. He still wasn’t fully sure he could process that, the idea of simply existing and then not, all over in a handful of seconds because of an idiot scientist that John hadn’t stopped.

He thought about Sumner, and Everett, and the other faces that sometimes played across his mind at night, when he tried to sleep. The dead who still haunted him, demanding a voice; the dead that didn’t have the decency to stay buried and forgotten in the past. And at that, John snorted. Secrets couldn’t stay buried, not even when the only other person who knew was dead and gone. Secrets had a way of coming out, shimmying to the surface of memories long ignored but never forgotten.

John looked at the piece of paper, crumpled in his hand. Slowly he straightened it out and began to reread the somewhat ludicrous words, typed out by a law clerk who had no idea of the differences between idealism and necessity. John thought once-upon-a-time he’d been shy, ignorant, threatening in an absurd manner. He’d grown to know the difference between necessity and idealism; grown to know the truth about being alone.

He dropped the letter on the floor and slowly took a sip of his whiskey; at least he’d gotten that much right.


End file.
